


All In the Cards 2019

by merryfortune



Series: Arc V Event Week Fills [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Prompt fills for Arc V Rare Pair Week 2019.





	1. Day 1 - Nostalgic

The sunlight was pleasantly warm as the trio bathed in, all but napping on the roof of the You Show Duel School together. They had long tuckered themselves out from duelling and from practising their gymnastic prowess or simply spotting for the other two and now, it was time for some relaxation and on an afternoon like this, it was all too irresistible to pile onto one another and just be. Closed eyed, holding hands, shoulder to shoulder, all but falling asleep.

“It’s just like old times, huh…?” Yuzu mumbled, not looking up from her lap as she yawned.

“Yep.” Gongenzaka agreed. “Just like when we were kids.”

“We still are kids.” Yuya huffed as he snuggled in against Gongenzaka’s left shoulder, his hand snaking down Gongenzaka’s arm.

“I feel more grown up nowadays but if you still wanna play the brat, go right ahead, Yuya.” Yuzu said.

“I mean… I guess…” Yuya grumbled.

“We’ve been through a lot these past couple of days… My head still spins over it.” Gongenzaka said.

“You can say that again.” Yuzu replied nervously as she had to listen to the other girls in her head – in her soul – give their opinions on what Gongenzaka had said.

“But, it’s just us now, yeah? Us against the world. Just like when we were kids.” Yuya said and his eyes opened; they gleamed with pride and wonder and adventure.

“I thought you said we were still kids.” Gongenzaka said, he opened one eye and looked down on Yuya.

Yuya stiffened. “You know what I mean. When we were tiny tots.” Yuya said.

“We had a lot of fun back then.” Gongenzaka chuckled one of his deep, wise laughs.

“We still do have a lot of fun, I think. I mean, I had plenty of fun today. Did you see me grab that action card with Melodious Diva’s help? It really got my blood racing.” Yuzu said.

“Yes, I saw it.” Gongenzaka said and his other eye opened. He smiled and Yuzu snuggled into his form a bit tigther. “You did excellent.”

“I was just a second too late on that one. But my comeback from it was excellent regardless.” Yuya pouted.

“True, true.” Gongenzaka said.

“But I still won that duel.” Yuzu said and she pulled out from the other side of Gongenzaka. She stuck her tongue out at Yuya who did the same back; all to Gongenzaka’s amusement.

“How about we go to the park later?” he suggested. “After all, you two clearly have energy to burn.”

“Huh? Why the park?” Yuya asked.

“Well, we’re still kids after all so let’s do what kids do best. Play on the equipment, of course. It could be fun.” Gongenzaka beamed.

Yuya leapt to his feet and then offered both his hands to his partners. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Gongenzaka and Yuzu both accepted his hand. With much effort, the ever twiggy Yuya was able to pull them both up to their feet. He grinned.

“I dibs going on the flying fox first when we get there.” he said.

“No fair, I was going to say that.” Yuzu pouted.

“With I, the man, around, I think I could push you both and your both tiny things, you can share.” Gongenzaka said.

“Yeah, sharing is what we do best.” Yuzu said whilst she and Yuya happily took up perches once more on Gongenzaka’s thick arms.

Gongenzaka grinned a grand grin whilst he awkwardly shuffled off with both Yuya and Yuzu clinging to him as they were. It was weird. The more things changed, the more things stayed the same, he mused. He was now looking forward to their date at their park now. It truly was the perfect sort of day for it. Clear skies and a warm sun – with both his partners in tow – there wasn’t much more he could ask for on this sort of day. Well, maybe ice-cream could go down a treat, but he’d bring up such a suggestion later.


	2. Day 2 - Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Into The Forest of Fireflies AU

The countryside appealed greatly to Sayaka. Always had and, as she planned ahead towards her future now that she was nearing the end of her high school career, always will. Though, there was a specific place, her aunt and uncle’s residence out way, way into the countryside where the grass was more gold than green and where the air was fresh. The lack of people appealed to her greatly; she felt like she could breathe, especially compared to the pollution clogged streets of Heartland.

But, Sayaka would admit with a blush in her cheeks, there was one person who did exist in the countryside: someone all for her.

She had met this person – this girl – when she had been a child. Her name was Ruri and she didn’t exist. She was neither human nor a ghost. A willowy waif in between, wearing a yellow sundress and with feathers attached to her mask which was bird-like, specifically in the shape of a robin. She had been an adolescent when Sayaka had met her in the summer about a decade ago; or more accurately, twelve years ago now.

Even though she was so much older than Sayaka, she had adored Sayaka’s presence in her life, as fleeting as it was. After all, Ruri had all the time in the world, in her own special way, but Sayaka’s time upon this Earth was even far more finite. After all, she was only human, even when she was teeny-tiny but in a different sense, she was finite in that she only had the summer. She would arrive at the end of the first week of June and then leave before the last week of August. It was pitiful but Sayaka didn’t mind. Nor did Ruri.

The days of Sayaka’s childhood were halcyon. Breezy afternoons by the stream, watching birds and watching the clouds. Ruri knew how to do fortune telling using both of them; a spirit, a proper spirit, of the forest had taught her. Ruri was a child of the forest, she said. After all, she had been human once, but she never died. She simply transcended because the forest wanted to keep her, this tiny abandoned baby with a bottle milk and a jewelled ring to play with in a woven cane basket plied with stained white sheets. So, the spirits of the forest kept her, turned her into something else, and gave her that white mask she wore to signify that though she may look human, she wasn’t quite.

Over the years, Sayaka would visit every summer. Summer quickly became her favourite season. She spent the autumns, springs, and winters yearning for the summer to return so that she may return to the wonderful side of the quiet and nearly enigmatic Ruri. At first, she wasn’t sure though but later, Sayaka became certain of it.

She wasn’t solely in love with the summer, she was in love with Ruri too. After all, they had spent so many summers together, Sayaka was nearly as tall as Ruri now. Her age too, visibly but Sayaka feared that one day, she may surpass Ruri, grow older. It was a melancholic yearning which was why Sayaka resolved that not only would she spend the summers with Ruri, she would spend the other seasons together, as well. After all, she thought of this girl and this girl alone throughout it all.

Sayaka thought – dreamed – of touching Ruri.

Again, Ruri was only human in shape. She was like the moon: beautiful, luminescent, smiling, but completely and utterly untouchable. It was the price for her existence, transient yet seemingly endless. The spell placed upon her, to keep her in the forest filled with spirits who adored her was that she was forbidden to touch a human. If she should, she would disappear.

But, Sayaka wanted to touch her anyway.

There had been a close call in the past. When Sayaka was about eight, she was walking along the pier with Ruri, near the shallows, when she slipped. Ruri had gone to catch her hand and pull her back but then her heart stopped. She remembered that if her hand met Sayaka’s, she would disappear so, she let the young girl fall. Sayaka was drenched but she would rather be drenched than alone, but it was that moment, Sayaka realised, that she wanted to officiate her connection because to be touched and to touch others, she felt, was to be human. But to be Ruri, she had to forsake such a simple pleasure despite her deceptively human shape.

To hold Ruri’s hand, to kiss her, those were the sweet, melancholic yearnings that Sayaka had in her quiet heart but for now, Sayaka cherished the time that she could spent with Ruri, side by side. For now, and hopefully, for as long as possible. As long as there were summers to be had, Sayaka would remember Ruri and love her.

When summer came this year, Ruri seemed strange. Stranger than usual. Sayaka spieled about all her plans for after school. Ruri listened, saintly, and nodded her head. Yet, she sounded uncertain from behind her beaked mask. That made Sayaka a little nervous, right up until Ruri spun around, dress twirling, and breaking out into a flippant promise: tonight, would be the best night of any summer that they had ever had. And ever could have.

“Let’s go to the summer festival tonight, Sayaka.” Ruri said.

“Huh? Why? Isn’t it dangerous?” Sayaka replied, quivering.

“What? No, not at all. It’s not different to the festivals that humans hold. In fact, we were inspired by them. In fact, sometimes, humans slip in anyway… You’ll be fine, dear. I’ll pick you up tonight so wear your best. We’ll meet here, like we always do.” Ruri said.

“Alright…” Sayaka mumbled.

She and Ruri parted thereafter. They had been hanging around the temple but once Ruri turned her back on Sayaka, she seemed to disappear completely before even moving off the temple’s threshold. The forest welcomed her back and somewhere, a wild bird sang sweetly. Sayaka’s heart trembled. Her heart swelled with elation: her first date with Ruri but her soul trembled; something about it bode ill.

Regardless, Sayaka was able to produce her best clothes. Her aunt permitted her to wear her yukata; it was supposed to be saved for only the most special occasions as it was that precious to her and their family. It had belonged to her grandmother originally and was still in as stunning of a condition as when it had first been sewn. Sayaka felt almost unbecoming wearing it due to its legacy but at the same time, she felt beautiful in it. It was pale pink with a dual motif of feathers and flowers. With a smile, Sayaka’s aunt did up her hair in a high bun.

Ruri had been waiting for Sayaka for some time when Sayaka returned to the nearly abandoned temple where they liked to play and hang out. Twilight had completely descended into the Earth by the time Sayaka arrived but Ruri thought she looked magnificent. She smiled girlishly, though her expression hidden by her mask, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear then extended a hand to Sayaka.

Sayaka flailed her hands about, “You mustn’t, Ruri!” she murmured.

Ruri giggled and she jerked her hand about. The ribbon she had tied around it began to loosen.

“Here,” she said, “tie it around your wrist.”

“O-Oh.” Sayaka murmured.

She drew in closer and took the ribbon. It was of a soft, white material. With ease, Sayaka was able to tie it around her wrist similar to how Ruri wore it. She smiled up at Ruri and blushed.

“Let’s go.” Ruri said.

She tugged on the ribbon and like a child’s toy, Sayaka was tugged along with it. She was once more caught up in Ruri’s aura and she adored it. Together, they stowed away in the darkness and into the forest. Ruri led her through the woods where the grass crinkled pleasantly underfoot. The woods were dense but orange lights flickered just beyond them and soon enough, Sayaka felt as though she had set foot in a very familiar yet simultaneously alien town.

The paths were stony underfoot and the bunting flapped above overhead. She looked around whilst Ruri gently led her through the crowds. Sayaka couldn’t help but look at everything at once in some vain attempt to absorb all the sights. Some of the people here looked just like her: completely human. Others had animal ears and others again had limbs in all the wrong proportions. Yet, everyone in this crowd meant peace and joy. Sayaka didn’t sense a malignant force amongst them. Everyone just wanted to enjoy the festival. Ruri must have been feeling similarly as she skewed her mask, allowing her face to feel the night air and allowing Sayaka to bask in the presence of her unbidden smile.

The festival was loud and noisy. People crowded and clustered. Amongst them, musicians played their instruments and others sang. Vendors lined the streets, lit with orangey lamps and selling all sorts of things: food, games, costumes and more. Sayaka and Ruri drifted through, purchasing a bit of this and a bit of that. Mostly talking to one another, clinging onto the ribbon which bound them together no differently than the act of holding hands.

It was a wonderful way to spend their time. Every moment had Sayaka’s heart racing. At the end of the night, she and Ruri watched the fireworks. They shot up and exploded into beautiful jets of gold and crimson. They whistled and spat, hissed and fizzled. The sparks bloomed ephemerally in no particular shapes or patterns, but they were still beautiful to watch as they drifted down against the inky black of the night sky speckled with silver stars.

But even such beautiful and exciting things paled in comparison to the grace of Ruri. Her eyes looked gorgeous, lit up with awe and with the vanishing lights of the fireworks. Her lips were parted slightly in a wondrous smile and Sayaka watched Ruri watching the fireworks; a tentative observation. She wished, desperately, that she could kiss Ruri.

Ruri must have noticed Sayaka staring. The fireworks were finished. Ruri pulled on the ribbon; Sayaka’s fingers quirked.

“Let’s go visit the lake, it’s the right season for fireflies, yeah?” Ruri said.

“Mmhm.” Sayaka replied.

So, Ruri took off again with the wind in her hair. Sayaka trailed along, smiling, and they disappeared further into the forest again. When they arrived by the lakeshore, it was likely about midnight. Here, the night was pleasantly cool and balmy. The lake was still and lively with the reflections of the night sky: slowly shimmering stars and illuminated by the moon. And in such serenity, green lights – the lit tail ends – of fireflies drifted through the air.

Sayaka was awed by the sight. Ruri was awed by the sight of Sayaka’s smile. Her heart ached and yearned in equal measure, perhaps even more, unto Sayaka.

“Sayaka,” Ruri murmured, “I love you.”

Sayaka’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She gasped and Ruri drew closer. She carried a cool air with her. She unlatched her mask from the crown of her head, and she placed it on Sayaka’s face. The light, white wood it was carved from bumped against the frames of her glasses. Sayaka swallowed hard as she squinted through her new, all-encompassing darkness.

Ruri kissed the mask. She kissed the protrusions of the mask’s lips, just beneath the beak which jutted out. Her cheek slid beneath the beak, a gentle nuzzle as she kissed as soft and as hard as she could. She poured all her feelings into that kiss and it could have made her cry. Instead, it filled her with a sweet and earnest joy.

She hoped that Sayaka knew that she was kissing her. She hoped that Sayaka liked the kiss when she drew back. Sayaka shivered slightly and she removed the mask. She clutched onto it tenderly.

“That was wonderful, Ruri.” she said, tears in her eyes. “I love you, Ruri.”

“I know, Sayaka, I love you too.” Ruri murmured.

The fireflies around them flitted and before their feelings unto one another could unravel any further, they heard the squeal and laugh of children. They smiled and turned their head. A boy and a girl, no older than eight from the looks of them, dashed through. The girl sprinted ahead whilst her companion was unable to keep pace.

The boy tripped and Ruri, without thinking, raced to his aide. She helped him up and he had grass stains up and down his legs, but he was fine. He thanked her and his friend called to him. Ruri let the boy go and soon enough, the pair of children disappeared.

Just like Ruri.

Sayaka watched in horror as specks of green light, no different to the lights the fireflies wore, began to break off from Ruri’s body. Sayaka screamed. She dropped the mask. It landed in the grass at her feet and Ruri turned around. And she smiled because of course, she smiled.

“Sayaka, it’s okay…” Ruri murmured. “I don’t think I had much time left anyway. I wasn’t meant to live this long but I’m glad I did because I got to meet you.”

Her words were soft as those specks of light billowed off her. She sparkled in the night, no different to a firework or a firefly. She drew in closer and opened her arms.

“Please? Sayaka?” Ruri said.

“I understand.” Sayaka said.

Her arms flung out and she embraced Ruri. She nuzzled in close and inhaled what was left of her scent. Sayaka buried her face in Ruri’s breast and held onto her tightly. Ruri reciprocated such a tight embrace. She finally felt contented; something she hadn’t truly felt in years as she had been plagued by her yearning.

“Thank you, Sayaka. I love you. Please don’t forget me.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Sayaka sobbed as she was slowly brought to her knees.

The lights drifted upwards and soon, Sayaka was by herself. Her scrawny arms wrapped around her own body where Ruri had been. She was gone. Sayaka bawled. All that remained of her dearest Ruri was the mask and the white ribbon, still entwined around Sayaka’s wrist and the other half piled in a loose curl but now, Sayaka had no one left to hold onto.


	3. Day 3 - Rogue

Shun collapsed over the counter of the bar. It was the wee hours of the morning and he, the decrepit captain of a decrepit ship, was all that remained. His crew had dispersed; returning to the rooms that they had rented or going elsewhere to party. But not he, he liked the smell of the beer and whiskey-soaked tavern counter. He didn’t want to leave and the ever patient and ever forgiving barmaid Yuzu didn’t mind.

She placed a blanket over him and sat down next to him. The pub was closed now, all quiet, just them and the way he slept; snores drowned in booze. She smiled as she rubbed his shoulders. He deserved a little bit of peace.

In the dark of her tavern, Yuzu fondly recalled her meeting Shun. He was fearsome and cumbersome. He boasted a sneer across his face and countless kills under his belt. Yuzu had been quivering in her boots; none of the other barmaids wanted a piece of him so she was the only one left. So, she downed a shot of liquid courage and steeled her nerves.

But the moment he laid eyes on her, the veneer of tower lifted, and she saw the gossamer soul beneath, a terrified little boy made to grow up too quickly cut down in ribbons from a sabre sword. He sobbed in front of her. He clutched her chest and called out a name which didn’t belong to her, “Ruri,” he sobbed, “Ruri, I love you so much.”

At first, Yuzu had nearly killed him. How dare he mistake her for a lover from his past? But as he trembled, as he sobbed, he divulged a little bit more. Not a lover, hopefully not a lover anyway, but a sister. And Yuzu couldn’t help but take pity on him, so mad with despair and mourning that he saw his younger sister’s face in her own so, out of a misplaced kindness, she gave him something to drink.

But, give a pirate a drink once is no different to giving a mouse a biscuit. Soon enough, he was mooching other things off her as well. Stories, conversation, information: anything he saw fit. Everything but food and drink, he always paid for that, but he started to cling as close as he could to her over the wood of the bar’s counter. He wanted to be with her and soon enough, Yuzu found herself giving into her fate.

Every barmaid who worked a tavern near the beach shared in this fate. Eventually – they always did – they would fall for a rogue of the sea, dashing and special. All for her and Yuzu was naïve enough to believe that whatever she had with Shun was one of a kind; that he didn’t play the sob story at every bar where he saw a pretty girl and decided that he didn’t want to pay for her company.

Others told her to be cynical. Her father especially. He didn’t want her laying with sea dogs; you got more than fleas doing that. But Yuzu couldn’t help it. The heart wanted the heart wanted and for her, it was to bring peace to this poor, ravaged soldier of the sea who did more evil than he did good – or at least that’s what Yuzu was told. She had yet to see the drunken and miserable bastard do more than harm a fly in her presence.

If she could bring him just a little bit of happiness when he returned to her bar once in a blue moon, then that was more than fine by Yuzu’s measure. She liked to give him a little bit of serenity that she doubted that he could find otherwise. Sure, it was strange to kiss his scarred lips when there was a good chance that he was commiserating on the likeness of his sister that he saw in her eyes and upon her petal soft lips but still. It was a small joy regardless of how twisted it was or wasn’t.

Besides, it wasn’t a completely one-sided relationship. He gave her small joys as well. He gave her extra money here and there; not to much because he knew that she would surely refuse him if he tried to spoil her with gifts and gold. He brought her flowers, once in a while. Surely plucked and stolen but she didn’t mind. She would keep them by her bedside until they more than wilted. Rotted. Because they couldn’t be replaced; not when he lived such a transient life.

Their love, and it was a love, no matter how frayed and distant, was a strange one but they cherished it nonetheless. Returning to Yuzu gave Shun something to cling to when he thought that that he was on the verge of dying as he drank whiskey to soothe the cuts which went beyond the bone. And the hope of Shun returning gave Yuzu to look forward to; motivation to keep the counter clean in case her lover wanted to sleep there rather than in a cot on the sea or better yet, in her bed. But he didn’t want to give her fleas or anything else, something worse, to remember him by.

But, for now, Yuzu was more than content to let him nap at the counter, a blanket over his shoulders as he wished to befriend the bottom of another bottle whilst holding her hand.


	4. Day 4 - Legend

Yuzu should have listened.

They were characters in a story, doomed to repeat the unfinished pages, but in a completely new frontier: reality.

But she had refused to comply with the rules of the new and old frontier. Yuzu valued herself first and foremost because that the kind of girl – heroine – she was. When she was happy, she grinned, and she laughed. When she was sad, she wept and bawled. She wore her emotions on a sleeve and inside her feelings, she took an arrogant heart. She believed herself to have free will. She wanted to defy the ghosts and inks of the past; she wanted to rewrite her future. And, with a jovial – comically so in this tragedy – personality such as hers, when she was in love, of course she wanted to express that love with sacred and intimate words.

Thus, in her straightforward yet pure-hearted arrogance, Yuzu fulfilled the very destiny that she had been desperate to avoid.

The Melodious Diva was destined to fall in love with the Lyrical Luscinia, the Princess who would slay the Harlequin draped in shadows. The Raid Raptor would fall, succumb, to his own failings and it shall be the Princess who takes upon the feathered, falcon blade and bring light to the night. And as for the Melodious Diva, in the dawn coloured with loss, she too shall join those who perished in the fight but her death, a peaceful one unlike those before her. She would open her mouth and say those words unto the Princess, the Princess capable of loving all humanity and inhumanity, including those in the ranks of her enemies and including those whom she had felled herself, and the Melodious Diva shall perish. Poof. Turned into specks of light and a gust carrying pale pink petals.

It was that fate, turned into specks of light and scraps of petals, which Yuzu, the Melodious Diva reborn and reincarnated, had wanted to avoid. She had thought, in this world no longer defined by the golden spine of a book or the boundaries of a page, that she would be able to succeed in bringing forth her love, true and fair, and conveying it safely unto the lovely Ruri, but she had been wrong.

Ruri was everything that Yuzu could not help but to become enamoured with. She was beauty and grace. From the moment Yuzu had spied her drifting through the school’s courtyard, feeding the birds and watering the flowers, she had taken Yuzu’s breath away. Ruri held a kind yet lonely smile on her face. Even if it was fate, destiny, or lines on a page, Yuzu had been drawn from the very start to Ruri. Even before Yuzu had understood the significance of the bangle around her wrist and the rose-like jewel embedded inside of it, Yuzu had fallen in love with Ruri.

And when Yuzu realised her purpose as the Melodious Diva and Ruri’s purpose as the Princess with the shattered heart, her feelings had only grown stronger. Like a flower ready to bloom, Yuzu had always been all but ready to let her feelings overflow like they always did in the day to day, inside the mundane.

But Dennis had warned her. Really, his warning, roundabout and dismissive of Yuzu’s feelings and her place in the story, had only further incited Yuzu’s love and determination unto Ruri. As much as Yuzu disliked Shun, Ruri’s elder brother and reincarnation of the Raid Raptor, was right when it came to Dennis. Though, their mutual feelings of resentment were built on completely different thought processes. Someone like him, flippant and wishy-washy, Yuzu thought, was completely unsuitable as a suitor for Ruri.

Ruri only ‘loved’ him because she didn’t know better, Yuzu had thought – perhaps selfishly, in hindsight. After all, Ruri, the Princess with the Shattered Heart, the Lyrical Luscinia, was the one being in all creation, natural and unnatural, who possessed a soul so good and pure, she could love anyone and anything regardless of who or what they were. So, it made sense, that even with her heart so severely and literally broken, inside of glittering jewels, that Ruri found herself to love even the Harlequin’s darling minion, the Entermage Magician, Dennis.

But as soon as Yuzu uttered those three words – “I love you” – she understood her folly.

It wasn’t a painful as she thought it would be.

That’s what shocked Yuzu the most as she felt herself disintegrate before Ruri. She thought that skin turning to petals and her body being purged until it was nothing, but air would hurt. It didn’t. It was strangely gentle as her fingertips fell off and wafted up and above her, carried by a gentle and demure breeze.

She stepped forward. She smiled. Ruri smiled also. And that’s when Yuzu realised the truth of someone who only had fragments of their heart and soul intact. Ruri was everything she wanted her to be because she was nothing at all: merely a pretty face and an elegant body. A mirror. Unkind, unloving, brutal – yet beautiful all the same.

At least, Yuzu thought as her eyes, slowly fading, welled up with burning hot tears, at least Ruri loved her. Yet, the thought broke what remained of her heart which was tightening and tightening until it gave way at the seams, turning into plucked petals and specks of light. The Princess who loved all would even love Yuzu, the pathetic duck, the pathetic dancer, who thought she could hold the world in her selfish hands so long as she had loved hard enough.

And she had. Yuzu swears that she had.

“Farewell, Yuzu, I’ll never forget you.” Ruri told her. Her voice was so gentle yet utterly callous.

Yuzu nodded. She smiled. She cried. She had the love that she desired but it hurt immensely. But Yuzu hardened herself as her legs disappeared beneath her. She had gotten what she wanted and even though she was succumbing to sick, sick fate, she would take triumph and glory in it because those who accept their fates, she had been told so wisely, will be granted happiness.

But it seemed, despite that grand smile between crinkly, blue eyes and streams of tears, that there was no happiness in the gale of light which followed Yuzu’s erasure from this plane of existence. At least not for Yuzu. Ruri, ever the dreamer, remained barely lucid though perhaps she was happy. Happy to be loved for whatever it is she was with her fractured heart which glistened in her chest: a good, pure heroine or a callous, evil-hearted witch.


	5. Day 5 - Regret

Sora smacked his lips and plucked his lollipop from the tight seal around them then glanced to Tsukikage. “I know your there.” He said.

“I prefer to be… in your peripheries.” Tsukikage said and then contradicted himself by joining Sora on the park bench that he was enjoying snacking on and taking the view in on.

A silence settled, a silence which was more or less disrupted by the rustle of trees from behind them. Somewhere, a dog barked, and an owner scolded it. The silence settled again, and Sora placed his lollipop back in his mouth again. His cheek bulged and then, using his otongue, he pushed it to the other side. Now, it was his right cheek which bulged. Tsukikage awkwardly crossed his arms. Sora sighed and removed his lollipop again.

“I’m sorry I carded your Older Brother that one time.” Sora said.

“Every battle, every war, has its causalities. It was an unusual ending, I suppose, not one completely unlike what we were mentally and emotionally preparing for in the event that the conventional death did occur.” Tsukikage replied.

“I have some – many – regrets about that duel.” Sora said.

Tsukikage made an unusual noise which was muffled by the blue cloth that he wore around his face. His eyebrows quirked. Sora huffed.

“I should elaborate, yeah?” Sora asked.

“Only if you wish.” Tsukikage replied.

“I wish I had duelled him better.” Sora said, his voice incredibly flat.

Tsukikage regarded him suspiciously. His eyes slid towards Sora and he tried to analyse him but to little avail.

“I really respect you, Tsukikage.” Sora confessed. “And, by extension, I respect your brother. I wish I had given him a better Duel. He deserved a more fitting end, even if it was brief.”

“That is a rather gratifying thing to hear.” Tsukikage said.

“Thanks. I was kinda worried you’d take it the wrong way, but it was something that I wanted off my chest.” Sora added.

“I’m flexible.” Tsukikage replied.

“Sucks, doesn’t it, though?” Sora murmured. “Having to prepare for the eventuality that you might die. That your comrades might. I didn’t really get that back at Academia. For me it was that only you could look out for you, but I get it now. I get it now super hard.”

Tsukikage petted the top of Sora’s head. “I’m glad you understand that, but as is the course of life. We all but prepare. I will admit, I’m beyond thankful that the carding process was reversible.”

Sora’s eyes widened. “So, would you say that you’re over the moon?”

“Don’t.” Tsukikage said and he decided that Sora’s bad pun was more than enough cause to cease petting him.

Sora pouted. “Why’re you here anyway? I was prepared to stew on that one for ‘til, I well, ‘til kingdom comes I guess.”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Not much work for a ninja in a modern and post-war society. I’m sure a soldier can relate.”

“Nope. I can’t.” Sora very happily chirruped. “’Cause I ain’t a soldier.”

“Oh? Truly?” Tsukikage said.

“Yep. Just a regular ol’ schoolboy nowadays. But good luck finding work, you weirdo.” Sora said. He exhaled glumly and kicked his legs slightly. That’s when Tsukikage noticed that Sora was so short that his feet didn’t reach the ground.

“I’ll try.” Tsukikage said through a guffaw.

“But maybe you should at least consider some new ways. You gotta play hard and work hard.” Sora said with as much wisdom as he as he could impart, so it came across as immature but Tsukikage didn’t doubt Sora’s lived philosophy.

He smiled and closed his eyes. Nearly unthinkingly, he hooked his fingers over his mask and pulled it down. Now, the mask had become a blue bandanna around his neck. Sora’s eyes widened. Tsukikage was slightly more handsome than Sora would have otherwise thought. Maybe a little average, but like… also above average. Though, he did have a rather long jaw.

“I’ll think about that.” Tsukikage said. “So, what sort of regrets do you perceive me as having if I’m all work and no play.”

“Hm, good question.” Sora hummed. “Well, you know how us schoolboys are like. Always getting crushes and whatnot. Unlike soldiers; not allowed to fraternise in the force, after all. Maybe, um, something related to that. Just a thought.”

“I see.” Tsukikage replied and there was a thrum on his lips.

Sora huffed. “I’m inviting you to kiss me, dumbass.”

“I know. I just like teasing you.” he replied.

Sora blushed and as Tsukikage spoke, he caught flashes of his teeth. No wonder he wore that mask, he had a rather unusual set of teeth. Some were chipped, others were capped, and some not there at all. Sora wondered what other sort of injuries that Tsukikage may have been hiding since those were the obvious ones. Sora had his share of similar stories and was lucky that most of his damaged teeth had to be removed anyway as they had been baby teeth. He lost his at an unusually old age.

“But, since your so impatient, I suppose that I shall relent. Throw a dog a bone, though, in your case, it might be more like sugar pearls before swine.” Tsukikage said.

“Ha-ha, so funny. So original.” Sora retorted but he supposed that it made them even for his prior jab at Tsukikage.

Still, Sora lifted up his head and Tsukikage leaned down. Somewhere in the middle, their lips met. Sora tasted like artificial grapes; a rather saccharine taste that Tsukikage very much disliked but he didn’t dislike Sora himself, so he kissed regardless. Perhaps more chastely than necessary to avoid too much of that sort of thing but it was a kiss, nonetheless. Besides, its not like Sora could taste Tsukikage over the taste of artificial grapes either. Thus, the kiss ended quite shortly. Barely six or seven seconds of lip to lip contact but it was enough to send Tsukikage back into hiding. He scrambled to return his bandanna to around his mouth so that it functioned as a cloaking mask. Sora didn’t mind. He smiled. Kicked his legs too.

“Thanks for checking in on me, Tsukikage. I appreciate it.” Sora chirped.

Tsukikage glanced away. “No problem. It’s a pleasure, really.”

“Glad t’ hear it then.” Sora replied, far too smug, and he popped his candy back into his mouth and crunched down on it, to Tsukikage’s disgruntlement as that noise was rather unsettling but then again, Sora was unsettling in general and he was rather comfortable with that.


End file.
